


Sick

by scribo_ad_astra



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Chigasaki Itaru (Mentioned) - Freeform, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Needles, Sickfic, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26472307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribo_ad_astra/pseuds/scribo_ad_astra
Summary: There's only two weeks before the opening night of Summer Troupe's first play, and Misumi is sick.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 60





	Sick

There’s only two week before the opening night of Summer Troupe’s first play, and Misumi is sick. 

It’s just a stomach bug. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he hugs his knees and leans against the bathroom wall, the freezing cold tiles a welcome relief on his hot face. Even if he hadn’t been able to eat anything last night or this morning and if it feels like someone is trying to stab him from the inside out, it’s nothing he can’t handle. 

If he were at his parents’ house, he could just hide in his room with the water bottles he had stashed for occasions like this. (Gramps told him staying hydrated was the most important thing when you have the flu. _Even if you can’t get medicine, always make sure you have water, Misumi._ ) But here is different. People expect things from him here, so disappearing for a few days isn’t an option, especially so close to the performance. Hazily, he remembers the story Itaru told him a few weeks ago as they were both gaming. Or rather, as Itaru was speedrunning through every Zelda game he had while Misumi pointed out all the triangles on the screen excitedly. If Itaru can get through a whole show on a twisted ankle, Misumi reasons, he can get through one practice with a stomachache.

It takes longer than he’d like to make his way back to the practice room, his vision turning annoyingly dark and clouding at the edges, but he gets there just fine, and without anyone passing him in the hall. Kazu shoots him a smile as he steps into the room. Kazu is always smiling. Misumi forces back any lingering nausea and returns the smile easily.

“Muku and Misumi, how about you two go next,” Izumi suggests.

“Alright,” Muku steps forward, twisting his hands slightly. 

“...Misumi?”

The nineteen-year-old blinks, eyes slowly coming into focus. “Huh? Oh. Yes!” Izumi taps her pen against the clipboard with a small frown. 

He lets the younger boy set the theme - a noir mystery, most likely inspired from some vintage manga he’d recently gotten hold of. The baby-faced middle schooler takes on the role of a grizzled old detective, scowling and deepening his voice as he circles Misumi and peppers him with questions about a famous man’s murder. Misumi answers with a high voice and fluttering eyelashes, examining his nails in feigned disinterest. Ah, there’s another scar on his knuckles. How did he get that? Maybe it was the cat he tried to pick up yesterday. The others are getting a kick out of this, Kazu holding his sides while he shakes with silent laughter, Izumi snorting as she takes notes, even Yuki and Tenma have smiles on their faces. 

“There’s only one conclusion,” Muku growls and levels a finger at Misumi. “Miss Scarlet, you...are under arrest! Because you’re the murderer!”

“Nooo!” Misumi wails, bringing a hand to his forehead dramatically. Someone - probably Tenma - chokes in an attempt to muffle a giggle. The sound fills his heart with warmth. He finally has the chance to make people happy with his acting, the chance to act with other people, if he can just-.

Izumi watches the skit end with an impressively realistic display of fainting on Misumi’s part. She scribbles down a few final notes and looks up. 

“Good job, both of you. Muku, remember you need to project your voice, but your delivery has really improved.” 

Muku’s face turns as pink as his hair as he mumbles out a “thank you”. 

“And Misumi-” Izumi’s pen tapping grinds to a halt. The other actor is still on the floor, facedown, unmoving. “Misumi?”

There’s an eternally long silence that lasts for half a second before Kazunari runs forward and turns him over. His already-pale face is whiter than paper, scrunched up painfully with small whimpers escaping his mouth. Kazunari brushes some of his hair aside and places his hand on his forehead, only keeping it there a few moments before his eyes snap to the director’s, wide with fear. 

Misumi does not like hospitals. He doesn’t do “staying in bed”, not when people are coming in and out of the room and sticking needles in his arm and telling him not to touch the scar on his stomach. The smell of disinfectant hangs heavy in the air, thick and suffocating. The window offers a welcome reprieve. 

He doesn’t get very far. Yanking the needle out sends some sort of alarm to the staff, and he gets pulled back at the last minute while another person closes and locks the window. Someone says something to him as they jab the needle back into his skin, but the words get lost in the air between them. 

They leave after a few minutes. Misumi looks around the sparse room with a petulant frown. There’s no good triangles here. 

There weren’t any good triangles the last time he was in a hospital room, either. 

The door opens and a blond hurricane practically flops on top of him.

“Sumiiii!”

“Kazu!”

“Oi, you’re going to open his incision doing that!” Tenma snaps as he steps into the room with the rest of Summer Troupe and Izumi. Kazunari whines in protest, but still shifts over and settles on holding Misumi’s hand instead. 

“How are you feeling?” Izumi asks.

Misumi sticks his tongue out. “I’m _bored~_.” The director laughs and shakes her head. 

“We figured you would be, so we brought this for you.” She holds up a large reusable shopping bag, packed full of things, and sets in on the bed. 

Misumi stares at it. “What is it?”

“Get-well-soon presents!” Muku pipes up. “We all pitched in...um, mine isn’t that good though, sorry….” he adds with a mumble. Yuki rolls his eyes. 

“Open mine first, Sumi!” Kazunari wastes no time digging a tupperware container out of the bag and handing it to him. Misumi opens the lid, face lighting up as he sees what’s inside. 

“Triangle cookies! Thanks, Kazu!” 

Kazunari beams. Misumi pops one into his mouth - chocolate flavored, rich and sweet with crunchy almonds. “Mm, good!”

“You like them? We all made them together!” Kazunari says. 

“Some of us made them,” Yuki corrects. “ _Some_ people stood around and bossed the rest of us around.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to properly mix cookie dough!”

“Oh, and you’re _so_ much better!”

“Guys, guys, don’t fight!” Kazunari cuts in. “We’re gonna be kicked out if you do!” 

“Hey,” Misumi says, “since everyone made these, everyone should have one.”

“Are you sure?” Yuki asks. 

“Yeah! Triangles are a lot better when you can share them with other people!”

A bonsai from Tenma ends up on the table. Muku gives him the first volume of a manga. Yuki has even brought one of his sankaku-kuns from his room, with new accessories. 

“The doctor said you need to stay for two more days,” Izumi tells him. Misumi frowns. Two days is...long. Too long. 

“What? But I feel fine! Can’t I leave tonight?”

“Nice try,” she snorts. “But you’re not getting out of here until the doctor says so.”

“No, really, Director, I’m all better!” He jumps up on the bed. The room starts to tilt. 

“Sit down, Misumi!” 

He does. There’s only two weeks until opening night, and Misumi is out with a ruptured appendix.

Izumi rubs her temple. “Look, I know you’re feeling restless, but we really need you to _rest_ if you want to actually get better.”

“But...the play…”

“There’s plenty of time for you to recover before then,” Izumi says reassuringly. “We can’t do Arabian Nights without our genie, after all.”

“Oh, good.” He feels himself relaxing. “I didn’t want to leave.”

“Uh,” Kazunari clears his throat after an awkward silence. “Leave what, Sumi?”

“The theatre!” he answers brightly. “I like staying at the theatre with everybody. If you guys had to get a new genie, I’d have to move to another place, and there aren’t many places with triangles as good as the ones there!” 

“Ah…” Izumi opens her mouth, looking like she’s about to say something, then clamps it shut as a funny look passes over her face. The others exchange glances.

“We’re not just going to kick you out if you have to miss a play,” Izumi says at last. 

He blinks. “You’re not?”

“Of course not, you idiot.” Yuki huffs. “We let the Elite Swindler stay, you really think we’d keep him and not you?”

“Besides,” Kazunari squeezes his hand. “We like having you at the theatre too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: sankakunoastra  
> tumblr: primeministerofantarctica


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